


Coffee Date

by Doodle_Famous



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Good Omens Holiday Exchange, Good Omens Holiday Exchange 2018, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodle_Famous/pseuds/Doodle_Famous
Summary: Crowley finds a cafe on his way to Aziraphale's bookshop. Their day due to this small change.





	Coffee Date

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I was in the Good Omen's Holiday Exchange this past December. I was the exact middle of the exchange this year! I was so happy to see the comments and now we can publish them!

It truly was a normal, unremarkable day. 

Crowley, bored with the same old routine that he’d been following for years, decided to invite Aziraphale to a new coffee shop he’d passed a few times on his way to the bookshop. Delicate vines grew on the walls, and steam from inside covered the windows. He sensed it would be a nice place even though he normally didn’t prefer such establishments, instead preferring dark clubs that were much easier to tempt people inside of. Everything about the coffee shop reminded Crowley of his angel. Old, yet somehow charming. Though this shop wasn’t as old as Aziraphale. So, once he got to Aziraphale’s shop one cold morning, he led Aziraphale in the opposite direction from the park.

“My dear?” Aziraphale asked, obviously perplexed as they walked. If Crowley looked back at that moment, he would have seen Aziraphale looking around. The angel trusted Crowley, but one can never be too sure.

Crowley couldn’t blame him. Being pulled away from where they normally strolled and talked would be confusing and slightly concerning even to Crowley. He’d fallen for Aziraphale long ago, and he was forever thinking of ways to surprise him. Of course, he’d never admit that to the said angel, but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him when it comes to something like that.  
Crowley didn’t say anything as they walked, although Aziraphale did try to convince Crowley to turn back toward the park halfway to the coffee shop. Crowley did smile at this, lacing his fingers with the angel’s. They fell into step with each other. The fall air was chilled, not quite cold enough for a jacket, but not warm enough for them to stay outside for hours on end. 

It was early enough in the morning that very few people were out and about. Saturday morning was the perfect time for such an adventure. Either they would both hate the place and have a story to tell, or they’d love the place, and it would be a new Saturday morning haunt. Crowley stopped in front of the café, looking to Aziraphale to gauge his reaction. Aziraphale’s expression was one of surprise. His blue eyes lit up, and he smiled at Crowley, seeming happy enough in spite of this surprise.

“Oh, Crowley. If you wanted to go somewhere new, you could have said so,” Aziraphale laughed. He made Crowley’s chest feel so light that he could have floated back to heaven.

“But it wouldn’t have been as special,” Crowley said, letting go of Aziraphale’s hand. He pulled open the door, holding it for the angel. Aziraphale nodded in thanks as he walked into the café; Crowley followed closely behind. 

The inside of the small coffee shop was as warm as it had seemed from the outside. Everything had a soft, almost candle-lit glow. Large windows were covered by thick curtains. One wall was covered with photos of what looks like a family that ran the place. Tables were spread out enough so that patrons wouldn’t disturb each other. An elderly woman stood behind the large counter, busy at one of the coffee machines. Aziraphale quickly read the board overhead, deciding on a simple cup of Earl Grey. Crowley ordered a black coffee, keeping it simple in his own way.

They move to a far corner, well away from the scattered patrons. Crowley and Aziraphale chatted, inconsequential memories passing between them in low tones. Crowley glanced over the rims of his sunglasses, curious. The room was nice and warm. He noted that a small fireplace opposite from his seat was crackling. He hadn’t noticed it when they first arrived, but it explained the source of heat. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, brushing a wisp of hair from his eyes. “Are you listening?”

“Yeah, I'm listening,” Crowley said, snapping back to reality. He pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose. Folding his hands on the table, he listened to Aziraphale start talking about whatever else had crossed his mind. They were hardly ever apart, so Crowley had heard this story before. Still, he hung onto every word. The elderly woman brought them their drinks, asking if everything was fine. When Crowley finally gets her to leave, Aziraphale seemed disappointed not to have her there.

“Why did you bring me here?” Aziraphale asked, blowing on his tea to cool it down. 

Crowley shrugged half-heartedly. “I saw it as I was passing by and thought you’d enjoy it,” he said as he mixed sugar into his coffee.   
Aziraphale studied Crowley’s features and then smiled.

“Oh, of course!” he said, glancing out the window next to them. 

Crowley watched the angel closely, finding that he didn’t seem upset. Instead, Aziraphale looked happy. Crowley drank the rest of his coffee slowly, letting himself relax.  
Once they were finished, they paid their tab and wandered back into the street. They walked closer together, as the temperature had dropped lower than earlier that morning.   
Crowley swore that the weather had done it on purpose. More people were out now: children running down the street with their friends, laughing and joking around, and even college students shopping with their parents. The sky, in spite of the cold, wasn’t overcast. Instead, the sun shone brightly through a few wispy clouds. Aziraphale stopped occasionally, talking to people. He helped a man that had dropped his fruit on the ground. They slowly made their way back to Aziraphale’s bookshop.

“That was fun,” Aziraphale said, opening the bookshop’s front door.

“Yeah, it was.” Crowley slowly backed away, but his progress was halted by Aziraphale grabbing his arm.   
The angel looked worriedly at the demon. “Do you want to come in? Until the weather’s warmer to walk in, I mean,” he clarified. “You’re a bit cold-blooded, after all.”

“Of course, angel,” Crowley said, forcing down a smile before following the angel inside.   
They’d probably make some more hot drinks, which suited Crowley fine. In his honest opinion, he’d take Aziraphale’s hot cocoa over the café’s coffee any day.


End file.
